Abnormality
by Cyanide Sins
Summary: The perspective of an heiress and the dreams that come with the night's slumber. A little Weiss-centric perspective, in first person... and including a bit of Jaune.


**_Abnormality_**

 **A bit of an experiment on doing a first-person perspective. I do hope that you enjoy this short little thing. Weiss point of view.**

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It wasn't as if I chose my life. All of my life, I have had the best things. The best toys to play with when I was a child, the best education to teach me how to behave and give an example, as befits the heir to the Schnee Dust Company. I have eaten the finest cuisine that could be found all over the world and I have slept in the softest of beds. My wardrobe is elegant and fitting, with not a single hint of mismatched clothing or a smudge of dirt to be found.

Certainly not have my teammates found themselves desiring a certain standard of quality. It has been a week since I have last spoken to Ruby about selecting something a little more... moderate, in her clothing. A girl of her age should wear something a little looser than a set of boots, maybe a nice set of heels, just so that the elegance within her form could come out. She looked at me as if I were the crazy one. 'You're trying to be my dad!'

Well, I certainly am NOT. If Yang's choice of attire is any indication, the man looks to be more at home in a brawling tournament than in some civilized company! The only solace that I have is that my teammate Blake seems to be the quiet one out of the three of them, with only a few passing comments made, without much substance.

As I dress for another day of worrisome events, some test only faintly remembered inside my fifteen-year-old partner's mind, I allow myself a touch of amusement to show in my smile. The dream still rummages in my mind, with the faint after-taste of imagined delights, of sweat upon the skin. I never really went to rough parties. It was not to be done by the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, to be seen roughhousing with the common rabble. The jacket is neat, freshly ironed the day before. My skirt is nice and straight, the dusting of makeup on my cheeks only to be done faintly... and my dreams are my own, never for my partner or my teammates to know.

The day brings with it more meetings of the bored and the less challenging aspects of Academy life, with the combat training ending with the absolute defeat of our challengers, the face of Jaune Arc once again imprinted upon the ground, a glancing blow from one of our fellow students having unbalanced him, tripping him up. How he managed to get into Beacon is beyond me... But I do manage to hide my thoughts on that subject. It would not do to show outwardly what my thoughts are. It is unbecoming of an heiress to show affectation to the common plebeian people.

That evening as I curl up in my bed, like my Faunus teammate does, I allow myself a moment of respite, of hoping that the dream will come again. For a moment, I let my mind wander, wishing that it would be a relief from the stresses of the day, a relief from that pressure that has been building up.

"Hey Weiss! What'cha doing?" Ruby's voice brings me from my thoughts, my eyes opening up to see her head dangling in front of mine, a controlled exhale hiding the shock that I feel at having my musings disturbed, ever the controlled heiress that I am. "I am thinking, Ruby. Something that every great leader on occasion does." Her face shows a little bit of surprise, as I am well aware of my position in the team. Yang is the muscle, Blake is the knife in the dark, I am the Aura wizard (I would call it witch, but that rhymes with the B-word, so I shall not.) and Ruby is our adorable team leader with a speed Semblance. "Oh. I guess I should." The sadness is visible.

I put a soft look on my face, as my tutors had instructed. It was best to do damage control, for when the comments got too biting. "Do not take it as criticism. Have you... Have you found someone to take to the dance?"

There had been that incident with Neptune Vasilias. He looks cute, for a boy, but I don't know... Something about him both appeals to me as well as... well, I don't think I should worry too much about it. As I gave my best 'Ruby, you are a good leader' look, the girl actually seemed to perk up a little. If she were a Faunus, she would definitely be a wolf of some sorts. I can just see the ears perk up and the tail whip back and forth in happiness. "No, but I don't think I'll be going."

My eyes narrow, as I fix her with a look. "Ruby Rose, team RWBY will be going to the dance. You, as our leader, are supposed to make an appearance." The right of those in power was to look good whilst appearing, to ensure that the lesser people were not given the wrong image. "But Weiss... There are lady stilts!" My groan was audible. "They are called 'High Heels', Ruby. A good image is to ensure that you are dressed to impress!" The girl seemed to get what I was referring to, a soft 'ah' coming there from the leader that Professor Ozpin had assigned us. "Welll... If you say so, Weiss."

And I did. I did say so. Pride fills my heart for an instant as I see that this battle is won. My eyes meet hers and a softer smile makes its way to my lips. "Please... Bear with it. A good impression on the other academies will ensure that our team will be looked upon fondly." The standard of business management was to ensure that the opposition would look as bad as possible whilst maintaining a clean outward appearance. It was how father managed the company, albeit the hushed noises about unfair wages had become louder than before. "Thank you, Weiss!" she said, chipper and happy. If I ever sound like that, I would dare hope that my teammates would put me out of my misery. It was not how a lady of my standing is supposed to act, after all.

As I drift off into slumber, the feeling of being asleep slowly washes over me. One moment, I am Weiss Schnee, Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company... the other I am just Weiss Schnee, simple girl who enjoys going to parties and enjoying life to the fullest.

A blaring musical cannonade of discordant tunes and what amounts to a beat comes to my ears, as I rouse myself into the slumber-filled maze of dreams, the beat of the crowd mixing with the beat of the people as they danced, my eyes finding the crowd of people to be familiar, as I mingled in with them. The expressions that I could never make in the real world, with my appearance carefully sculpted to the Schnee Perfect Standard, now something else entirely.

Cheering when the sound shifts to the music that is rough and rowdy, the faint smell of sweaty bodies as the impromptu shift in pace and the people just start jumping out of the sheerness of the sound... That is something that I wish that I could do. The Weiss Schnee who was cold and yearns only for the appreciation of her friends and family, is now the Weiss Schnee whose hair is dyed a deep dark colour. The contacts that are set in my eyes, a quick look in the mirror of one of the bathrooms confirms, are a deep red colour and the outfit that I wear... Why, it is totally scandalous. High boots that are zipped up at the front, with a skirt that is as thin as it ever could, barely hiding the thong that rubs against my rump... It is complete and utter madness to envision myself as something like this. The top that I wear is sheer, even with the netting only barely hiding the bra that lights up a lurid whitish-purple under the lighting.

I am in the crowd in a moment later, mingling with the familiar faces. Cardin Winchester, decked out in one of the pink outfits with many frilly feathers moving in tandem with his motions, a small man at his side, decked out in neon orange. It is something that I would never see in the waking world, where he wears but the outfit, all broad and bully-like, ready to pounce on any sort of influence that might tarnish his credentials. A sudden push to the side and I find myself tripping, my face about to hit the floor, the nose no doubt going to break. A set of hands comes and catches me, right at this moment and I can smell the faint cologne that has been sprinkled up a little bit too liberally, pulled up into someone's personal space. "What the flying fuck was that?" I growl, my voice a pitch lower than the melodic manner in which I would regularly speak, a set of blue eyes meeting my own. "Don't you know that it's right to let a fucking damsel slam her face against the ground when some limp-dick knocks into her?" His eyes are taken aback, the words that I had used nothing like the thing I would have ever uttered, yet the confidence that being in a dream grants me makes my mouth bolder than any woman of unsavoury descent. "I was just..." His voice trails off, his eyes both confident, as well as a little shy.

"You were just, what?" My voice sounds sharp, as my eyes bore into his own. This version of Jaune Arc, whatever he might do in the waking world, holds some spine, but nothing too much. There was no air of desperate hope for a relationship. My fingers slide over his body, feeling the lack of muscle there. Skin is but skin, his eyes express the warmth of his feelings, once more. Denying him in the waking world... well, that was one thing that I didn't really mind. As my fingers touch over his clothes, he seems to startle. "What's the matter?" I ask again. "Cat caught your tongue?" The soft giggle escapes my lips. I have seen Blake in this little dream world, a young woman, dressed in her leather outfits, some redhaired man used as her personal mode of transportation, forced to crawl. Whatever this space is, this dream... I dare hope that it would be something else entirely.

"Just take it easy. A pretty girl like you shouldn't use such language." The breath halts in my throat, as my eyes take in his sincerity, the feeling stops... and something happens. There is a disconnect between the two of us, the black and the white version of myself splitting apart, as if for a moment. The red meets with the blue, the decision made. The scar is on the wrong eye with her, as it is on the proper one with mine. "I..." Mine? Her? Voice speaks, as I watch as crimson rises to her cheeks. "I'm sorry." She said, and looks up at him. "How about you and I go and have a bit of fun? You can even keep the condom off."

The dream usually cuts out before I offer such lewd suggestions. As I find my vision fading once more, I feel that the scene has shifted a little, back to the dorms in which my team rests. Slowly, I peer out into the room, the faint snores of Yang only adding to the homeliness of the situation. I hope that I don't run into the dorm again where Yang and Blake are entertaining Ruby. That was one of the more disturbing things. Whatever the realm of imagination provides, seeing Ruby actually inflict violence upon some poor bastard... It unnerved me badly enough to be unable to look into her eyes.

My feet find the ground cold, the sensation a little different from the warmth and comfort of the bed that I have 'woken' up from. With these dreams, it always makes me feel like I am half-aware, ready to find whatever I knew about my friends to be false. The shower I skip, feeling not up to spotting some dream version of Ruby with her 'great love'.

The outfits that are in my closet are white, as would be expected of my own dorm. Our reality is what we shape it, according to the famous theologian Sir Freshness Blackon. Dressing myself in a flash and looking at my meagre assortment of fancy underwear, I make a mental note to go shopping for some lingerie. An heiress needs to look fashionable even whilst making love with her intended... even if there is no intended yet.

Three in the morning it is when I finally push open the door, to see what the world hands me. My fingers feel the life-like doorknob turn, the door leading towards team JNPR's room appearing to be ajar, the faint flush scent of what seems to be syrup appearing to waft from that direction. A blonde young man appears in my eyesight, the recollection of that dream earlier bringing with it the faint impish brush of naughtiness that I would never have indulged in whilst in the waking world. "Jaune." My voice speaks with an inflexion that is laden with the amusement of his earlier comments, the heat staying from my cheeks, as the feeling of desire wells up still.

I am hardly someone who would engage in such bawdy things in public, the stilling of his body and the nervousness in his stance betrayed immediately. With his mouth opening up, I can see the opportunity. "Weiss, what's the matter?" His voice sounds a little desperate, as if he is wondering what will happen at three in the morning, the heels that I wear right now a good touch to the Huntress outfit, my white clothing accentuating every inch of my body. "You are coming with me." I speak, voice not wavering. For a dream, his reaction is not at all confident, his eyes cast down. "S-sure." His voice whispers, not the confident tones that I had grown used to. With my eyes, I can pick out the faint brush of his body to the point. He wears his shield at his hip, his sword at the other.

"Jaune..." My voice speaks, as the door closes between the two of us, the broad expanse of the Academy before us, the chill of the night air something that I would never wish to experience in the real world, preferring the warmth of my clothes and the heat of the bedcovers at night. "W-Weiss?"

Such an endearing little act brought out the full sadist inside me. "Ah ah ah..." My finger traces over his breastplate, letting him feel the touch. "That's Mistress Weiss to you." Such terms would definitely make father get an aneurysm or something worse if uttered. His face paled a little, so cutely that it made me giggle. "Jaune..." My voice barely trembles, as my fingers tap down over the chest plate, tangling in the hoody and giving it a little tug, pulling him closer to me. Looking up at him, it is but the thought of the things that I'd done in my dreams that stops me. My eyes twinkle for a moment, as I lean forward and place a soft kiss to his chin. "You're a hot little fucking blondie."

Such words would cause me to blush if this were the real world. His eyes widen, as my lips leave his chin. The taste of sweat is there, as my fingers slide lower, giving a touch. "And that..." My lips curl into a smirk that my dark-haired self would definitely appreciate. "Is one hell of a Crocea Mors that you've got there."

It wouldn't be wrong to say that I've experimented in my dreams. Why else would I prefer the looseness of my dreams to the reality? There was no Schnee Dust Company there to bother me... or to let bother me. Just me, Weiss Schnee, bad-ass bitch of team RWBY. Cussing out Blake for being a Faunus bitch who left me to get blown up? Done it, with a gusto! The cat even started hissing in her response, near apoplectic with anger! Did we make out after that and do some really kinky stuff? Hell yeah. Blake enjoyed it, I did... and nobody had to know that we did it. That's the fun of dreaming. Dark hair? Got it. Bright pink? I'll get it! Hot lesbian foursome? Only if Pyrrha enters. Ruby is nice but just... too young.

Back to the present with my thoughts, even as the pleasant buzz of the dream makes my head spin, my fingers gripping the noble sword of the Arc line. "Weiss, p-ple-" I squeeze, my eyes blazing. "That's Mistress Weiss to you, Jaune." My voice is strict, as I remember that one time when I had put on Professor Goodwitch's cloak and did a bit of 'private instruction' in my dreams. Sure, the woman was a narcoleptic professor who fell asleep every three sentences, but it was fun to do.

"Mistress Weiss!" He squeaked, as my fingers gently squeeze. "Now, Jaune... You can be my good little bitch or you can be a baaaaaad boy." My fingers seize the metal of the zipper and then slide it down. "Just know that I won't condone you calling me Snow Angel anymore." The words would help him just as much as it did me, as it was a little annoying to hear him call me such an endearing name.

My disappointment with how this dream was going was quickly banished, as I seized the opportunity. "If you were ever considering a career change, Mister Arc..." My eyes look up at him, as I dip to a knee, elegantly as always, my fingers still busy with the blade of Arc, the soft smirk playing along my lips the practised smirk of the alternate version of myself... As this is a dream, I cannot help but wonder what Jaune's reaction would be to myself taking a knee before him and keeping his family sceptre in a firm grip.

"I would suggest that you use this sword on the fortunate women that you 'rescue' from the arms of the Grimm." The coyness of such a suggestion, even as that sword rose to the challenge presented, was something that gave me a soft sensation of enjoyment, as my fingers stroked over the flesh. "Weiss, p-" "No." My voice snapped, as my lips brushed lightly together, tongue sliding over the well-painted lips. "You will not speak. You will not whimper. You will enjoy this and you will let ME enjoy this." My voice sounds much like my mother when I snap, the sound of my father's tone of voice when irate still causing the flinch automatically. Mother used to have this manner of speaking that was authoritative... though nowadays, she just sips the bottle like it's the elixir of life or something.

I rise after nearly five minutes, wiping the excess off my cheek. "My, My..." I purr, my voice holding that sultry edge that I've only heard in the movies. "That was quite the surprise, Jaune." He whimpers a little as my hand touches his cheek. A swift glance at the clock tower makes it out to be half past, a long enough while that I can take my time getting back. "Y-yes." He says, voice sounding subdued as if he thought it merely something that should be said. "You are going to be a good boy, yes?"

The voice that he uses is subdued, a nod given. "Yes, Mistress Weiss." I smile and pat his shoulder. He smells pretty good, despite the sweat on his brow. "If you are a good boy, I'll help you out a bit." In the real world, I would not give him the time of day. It would be ludicrous to associate with him, as his skill is negligible... But if his abilities and stamina are anything like in this world... Well, It might be something that I have some use for. A stallion is what one wishes for... even if it is horridly submissive to one woman's strong will.

"Sleep well."I whisper, his head bobbing once. My eyes go down and a soft shake of my head comes. "And make sure to tuck yourself in well. It would be crude if Pyrrha saw that hanging out there." A soft skip in my step, even as I hear him push himself back into the proper place, without a bit of shame in the least, as I depart back to the dorm, finding myself back into bed. The taste is unusual, still remaining on my taste buds, yet it tastes much better than some of the things that were seen as 'exotic' and 'unique'. Atlesian Karddfish, for instance. Whoever decided that rotting fish basted with a sauce of honey-cranberry was a delicacy must have been half-mad of winter madness!

As I snuggle into my blankets again, I hope to find myself in my bed once more to waken, the feeling of the comfort of the sheets giving me that sensation of being back in control.

The feeling of shifting once more between the dream and reality was something that I did not anticipate. My dark-haired self gives me a smug smirk, mouthing something that I can faintly read out as 'Ya fucking bitch', in her own crude dialect, before she merely gives a little salute to me and I awaken to the feeling of Ruby tugging onto my covers. "Wakey wakey, Weiss! It's morning!"

As I get out of bed, I barely concern myself with the nightshirt that I wear, the dress lifted and pulled off, hung on the rack, the hot steaming water immediately washing over my pale naked body. There is a salty taste in my mouth, as well as that awful taste of not having taken breath mints. An heiress must always bring with her the breath mints, lest she be thought as of mere common trash. Those of high stature always smelled their best.

As I emerge from the shower, I see my battle outfit already hung out, the smell of faint perspiration on it still. I frown a little at the thought of having to wear that, deciding to wear a towel and one for my hair, as I put it into the washing hamper. Without words, I stroll into the room and then go and get a fresh set of undergarments, clothing myself in the shortest and most efficient manner possible. "Got a bit of late night exercise in?" Yang comments, even as I pull on the jacket, the skirt perfectly matching it. "No, not really." I say, checking my reflection in the mirror. The red cloak that Ruby wears flutters a little as she twirls around, Blake emerging from the bathroom, her ribbon in place.

"Team RWBY, time to go for the cafeteria! We must be getting a hold of our daily rations! This must be the best day EVER!" I suppress the urge to groan. Sometimes, Ruby sounds so much like the child she appears to be, devoid of any sort of sense. A simple 'Team RWBY, let's go get some food.' Would have sufficed for the task put before us.

As I grab something that faintly looks appetizing, I walk towards the table at which we usually seat ourselves, sitting down next to Ruby. The faint smell of her strawberry shampoo invades my nostrils, even as I watch team JNPR sit down. Jaune's eyes are unfocused and there is a sprinkling of red on his cheeks. "Good morning, Ruby." He says, my heartbeat speeding up a tiny bit, the thought of doing something like that to him sparking through my mind. In the dream world, it would be possible. I'm some tough, rough and crude girl, ready to fight whoever comes at me. "Good morning, Yang." Pyrrha's eyes catch mine, a look of confusion and something else that I can't quite decipher. She's always had a good poker face, able to put on the emotion that was required, as any true professional should. I wish I could do the same. At times, people frustrate my patience.

"H-hey, Weiss." He speaks to me finally, my eyes meeting his own. He mumbles something that sounds like a sorry, his cheeks growing hotter by the moment as if he saw something embarrassing. "Speak clearly, Jaune. You are not here to be in stutter school." It sounded mean perhaps, but if he did not speak clearly, how was he ever going to look like a respectable huntsman? A clear voice, direct and manly with just that little hint of 'I am in control' and you'd have a good huntsman who can be the pillar of any community.

"Yes, Mistress Weiss." He spoke a little clearer, the reactions around me varying a little. Ruby merely gave a soft 'eh?' sound, whilst Yang and Blake looked at him as if he'd grown a second head, then stared right back at me. My fingers pinched my flesh, the pain briefly warning of that this situation was real. "What... did you call me?"

Embarrassment shone in his eyes. "You wanted me to call you that." He threw back at her, even as I could feel myself being dipped in an ice-bath of reality. _'That was real? Oh... Oh... OH!'_ The embarrassment would come later, even as his gaze went down. Pyrrha's face was passive, as I could see her fingers grip her knife in a fashion that definitely looked more like she wanted to use it. "Care to explain?" Her voice could be something out of a horror movie, as it was devoid of amusement, her green eyes chilly and cold.

Heat flushed my cheeks as the realisation came that it had NOT been a dream. I'd basically pinned Jaune down with my sheer presence and... Oh. "So... it wasn't a dream." I mutter to myself, Yang clearing her throat. "What?"

Jaune whimpered a little, as he looked up at me with a helpless look. "Mistress Weiss has given a few pointers." The acts that I'd done came back to me and heat seemed to radiate out of my cheeks. "B-but... Nothing happened." Jaune's crimson cheeks told otherwise, as my own stammers were utterly unladylike.

The first knife that flew at me nicked my cheek, the hot gush of blood something that made me aware that it was dangerous to be around a huntress with a semblance that had to do with polarity. A tactical retreat was needed... and some time to figure out just how to get myself out of this mess.

This was just not going to be my greatest day ever.

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 **Tell me what you think of it. This was just an experiment of the first-person perspective that I whipped up in a few hours. Weiss and Jaune is kind of... yeah. The perspective between the 'dream' and the reality are different. You might recognize a red-eyed and dark-haired version of Weiss... and yes, that was a reference to Bleiss. I fancied a bit of a change from writing A Grimm Tale. Maybe I'll do something with Bleiss for a short thing. It'll be a lot more profanity-laden than this though. Bleiss is more of an inversion of Weiss. The Legacy of Bleiss: A Discord Anthology and Black Mirror are pretty good for that character's line of reference. I enjoyed reading them. I hope you enjoyed this. It's back to 'A Grimm Tale' next week.**

 **Read and Review, people! It feeds the flame of fervour!**


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